Misuterareru
by Fullmetal10188
Summary: A new, exciting kind of supernatural story now unfolds! Kenshin has to learn to accept who he is along with the dangers and new friends that acceptance brings.


Heyo all! This is my first submitted fic, so I hope you all enjoy! I love constructive criticism so please, please review! Unless you want to say something about the religious comment made in the proceeding paragraph, cause I don't want to hear it. It's a free country and I haven't had the best relationship with god, so don't even start. Otherwise, I would appreciate hearing what you have to say so I can improve this story.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, or Samurai X. They belong to the wonderful Watsuki-sama and ADV Films. But I do own the Kenshin in this story! sigh Small steps before big! Enjoy!

Throughout the course of human history, the supernatural has been regarded with suspicious fascination. Human kind has either classified it as divine or evil. The supernatural has always been written off as such, so I am here to set the record straight. In this world that we inhabit, there is no such thing as divinity among humans. God is a laughable illusion that people use to make death seem nicer than what it really means; dark loneliness.

The quiet solitude of the green untouched forest was interrupted by a peel of thunder seven miles out. The bright sunlight that had shafted through the dense trees of the lush forest suddenly cut out with a strong gust of moist, humid wind. The thick drops fell gently, at first, gradually picking up speed and force as the dark storm clouds gathered over the murky woodlands. The animals on the forest floor scattered as the rain grew in intensity, rushing towards any shelter they could come across. Centipedes burrowed into the soggy dirt while a family of quail hurried into an awning made from a giant tree root.

Along the outskirts of the untainted woods, a small village waited quietly for the storm to pass. The mountains on either side helped contain and hide the village from prying eyes and gave a slight reprieve from the storm.

Inside a small hut slightly isolated from the other houses, closer to the edge of the forest than another person, the four occupants were deathly quiet. Three of the four people in the hut were confined to their beds, breathing labored, faces swollen and red. The two elder individuals were cordoned off from the third figure, a teenage girl in the throws of a nightmare. The figure of a six year old boy was in a separate room preparing a dinner of chicken broth and a little bowl of rice for his sick parents and nee-chan.

It had been three days since the symptoms had started, and the family was fading fast from cholera and pneumonia. Only the young boy was still standing, though not for much longer.

The meager dinner was finished cooking, so the little one gathered the three bowls of broth and three bowls of rice onto a tray and carefully carried them to each of his loved ones. He lingered over his sister a little before heading to his parent's room. His sister wouldn't last much longer. She was fading too fast, so there was no real hope of recovery, but still. Still, he couldn't give up quite yet.

Clearing his head and fuzzy sight with a slight shake, the six year old caretaker wobbled over to where his dying parents lay on dirty well-worn futons made of long grass. He carefully plopped down in between his parent's prone forms.

"Okaa-san, wake up, it's time for dinner." His mother tenderly rose up to her elbows and shifted so she was leaning against the wall of the room. She smiled at her son and croaked out a thank you.

"Arigatou Shinta-chan. You've been taking such good care of us all. How bout you go rest, okay?" She noticed that Shinta was looking even paler than usual. Shinta smiled at his concerned mother and shook his head.

"Daijoubu. I'll stay with you while you eat. I'm sorry I couldn't find something better, but this was all we had," he admitted sadly, gesturing towards the food. He had planned on going fishing or hunting, but he hadn't been feeling well lately. His whole body ached and it seemed like there was a gray veil over his once vibrant violet eyes.

Shinta sighed tiredly and gingerly leaned against the wall nearest the door, in case his nee-chan should need anything. Shinta shook his head; his ears were ringing and it was suddenly very hot. He noticed his mother was staring at him, lips moving, but the ringing in his ears covered her voice. Her face was full of concern and fear, and slowly she got up, moving towards her son.

As she reached her pale son, Shinta collapsed, falling onto his side with a low groan.

"Shinta-chan!" Her cry roused the exhausted father and sister who hobbled gently into her parent's room to see what the commotion was about. She found her mother on the floor next to her little brother who was far too skinny and pale, and looked for all the world like a small corpse already.

Instead of rushing to her otouto's side, she hurried over to their father who was desperately trying to get up and over to his sick son.

"Otou-san, you can't get up. Don't worry about Shinta-chan he'll be alright." Though she spoke with confidence, it was faked so her father wouldn't worry.

Seemingly pacified, at least for the moment, her father dropped back onto the futon and into unconsciousness once again. Sparing him a brief glance, she shakily made her way over to her distraught mother to see what was wrong with her beloved otouto.

Her mother was cradling Shinta's little body against her bony chest sobbing into his dull crimson hair. Sitting down gently next to her weeping mother, she was filled with dread when she noticed how frail he actually looked. He had hidden it so well with his ever present smile that none of the family had noticed that he too was sick. She reached out a slender hand to caress Shinta's soft hair but stopped it half way as she finally comprehended what she was seeing.

"Okaa-san, Shinta's not breathing!" Her mother looked up at her with those words, brown eyes full of tears, her sobs growing in volume.

"I know. How did this happen? How could none of us have known he was sick? Why didn't he-why didn't he—," her crying increased in level and she couldn't continue.

"Because he was Shinta," was the daughter's only reply. "He didn't want us to worry." She smiled sadly at her little brother. She remembered how they used to play tag along the forest boundary, and how she would always let him catch her. Her eyes teared up and she violently wiped them away, looking defiantly at her heartbroken mother.

"Give him to me. I know of a way that could save him."

**Glossary:**

Nee-chan: older sister

Okaa-san: mother

Arigatou: thank you

Daijoubu: it's/I'm fine

Otouto: little brother

Otou-san: father


End file.
